Stillness is the Move
by loudmouthbastard
Summary: Vigilante AU His costume is a joke, he's one anxiety attack away from blowing up the entire school, but that rush he gets from saving someone's neck is the only thing keeping him going. That and an unavoidable smile that keeps popping up in every aspect of his life begging him to notice and sit still for just one moment.
1. Chapter 1

Leaves rustle in the cool early fall breeze as sleepy eyed students wind their way through streets. Kirishima is still rubbing the crust out of his eyes when he looks up, brain hardly registering that something is clearly not right. Across the street stand two girls in his year, knuckles white where they clench each other's hands in fear cowering under the gaze of the three thugs that have cornered them in an alley entrance. The short one has taken a wide stance switch blade pointing towards the girls and hoodie concealing his face. The middle one is in the process of snatching their bags, slender snake-like face peeking around the edge of his hood. The last one stands tall and skinny as a telephone pole, arms crossed and face hidden in the shadow of his hood.

From where he stands Kirishima can't make out what they're saying. His eyes that have popped open, suddenly awake, stay fixed on the girls shaking and crying in fear. He has to do something, but what? _No,_ he thinks, _I can't. What if they report me? It's hardly effective, would I even be able to help them let alone defend myself?_

He inches a foot forward, but his legs won't move. He shakes where he stands across the street, witnessing as the guy starts to rummage through the girls bags. _I should do something! I should call for help! Why can't I move?_

There's a crackling of thunder and Kirishima's prayers are answered. In the time it takes for him to blink someone's there, spikey blond hair frames a tight black mask, muscled arms exaggerated by a slim fitting black tank and baggy black sweat pants. Splayed on the concrete lies the guy who was just pilfering the girls' bags, snake-like face fully visible from where he rests face up. Kirishima watches star struck as the tall one's body bends and twists, arms stretching to wrap around the newcomer in an attempt to immobilize him.

Bright bursts of light explode from the blond guy's hands and the tall one reels back with a shout. He turns to him and sweeps his legs aiming for another punch. Kirishima sees the short guy spring forward aiming for his back.

"Watch out! He has a knife!" Someone yells. Kirishima looks around and realizes that no one else is there. It was him.

The blond guy moves in an instant. Explosions from his hands propelling him off the ground and into a back flip over the short guy. The guy with the knife stumbles and the blond takes the opportunity to blast him into the tall guy.

"Why don't you fuck off!" He barks. "And here!" He grabs the snake guy by the front of his hoodie with both hands, "Take your stupid ass friend with you!" and tosses him into the other two as they scramble backwards across the pavement.

Everything is still for a moment, the girls still stand there trembling as the blond heaves in labored breathes. Kirishima grins and doesn't hold back the "Woot!" of pure excitement that bubbles out of him.

"That was awesome!" The guy looks back at him dumbstruck before looking down at his wrist with an audible "Shit!" Kirishima can barely make out from across the street and takes off at a sprint back in the direction he came from.

Kirishima jogs over to the girls brushing his long dark hair out of his face. "Are you two okay?" The three of them crouch down together and gather the girls' stuff.

As they walk to school together one of the girls can't help but vocalize, "Can you believe those guys? Using their powers out in the open like that! So scary! No wonder their illegal!" Kirishima's steps falter.

"Ah, yeah," The other girl sighs, "But, like, that must suck for the dude with the snake face. What can you do when you're so obvious? I bet it's really hard to, like, get a job and whatever."

"Ew! I think snakes are gross enough as is! They should do something with people like him!"

"Like what?" Her friend stops and gives her a hard look. Kirishima stops where he walks a foot behind them now.

"I don't know! Just something! Those guys were dangerous!"

"But what about that other guy? He saved us, right?"

"He explodes things! With his hands! What's safe about that!?" Kirishima moves to detach himself. He stares at his feet the whole way to his locker lost in thought. He feels tears sting his eyes as his mind replays again and again, _they should do something with people like him!_ He stares out the window of his first period classroom to the leaves falling in the courtyard and thinks about the blond guy who helped those girls. _He was so manly and cool! If only I could be brave like that!_

He replays the scene over and over as the bell rings and the other students file in. He imagines himself stepping in as the teacher starts talking. Something, something, new student, something, something, not showing up. He's interrupted from his train of thoughts by the crack of the door slamming against the wall. He pulls his chin out of his hand to face the new guy, shirt disheveled, pants sagging, blond hair looking as if he'd just rolled out of bed after tossing and turning all night, and breathing as if he'd just run a mile.

"Class started ten minutes ago." Their teacher sighs.

The new guy huffs and throws himself into the only available seat right behind Kirishima.

"I don't know how they do things at your old school, Bakugo, but next time you're late its detention. Now, you have a lot of work to catch up on. Talk to your neighbors after class and see if anyone will lend you their notes."

Kirishima can hardly help returning his head to his hand and his eyes to the falling leaves. He spends the rest of class daydreaming about muscles and masks and being a hero.

* * *

Fuck, first day at a new school and he's going to be fucking late. Bakugo's palms sweat around the strap of his backpack. He's going to have to wash it again. He's going to have to meticulously clean every article of clothing he's worn today because he can't take the risk that his nitroglycerin like sweat hasn't seeped into the fabric making it explosive.

He doesn't mean to slam the door open. He just didn't want to touch it with his hands and in his blind rush he kicked it with too much force and now twenty three eyes are locked on him. Fuck.

He makes his way to the only available seat and of fucking course, there sits one of three people he really did not want to see. It's that guy from the fight earlier with the dark hair who warned him about the knife and cheered for him. His whole body starts producing sweat at a rate that could detonate the whole school if someone lit a match. _Get it the fuck together, Bakugo._

He lets out a small sigh of relief when the guy turns back to stare out the window without the slightest trace of recognition. Bakugo opens his backpack to pull out a notebook, careful not to open the pocket with his makeshift disguise. _I'm the lamest fucking vigilante. I don't even look like a hero. I just look stupid._

He watches as his new teacher scribes notes out on the chalkboard. Algebra. Thank fuck. He's good at Algebra. He spends the fifty minutes of class time half taking notes half dreaming up costume ideas. _This is so fucking stupid. I'm going to look stupid no matter what. Nobody asked me to do this._

The bell rings and the guy in front of him starts to turn towards him so Bakugo ducks his head down to shove his notebook back into his bag afraid he'll look up into a face that'll say _hey, aren't you that guy?_ He should have just let those girls get mugged.

"Bakugo, right?" The guy in front of him sticks his hand into Bakugo's face, pointy teeth flashing in an all-out grin. "Name's Kirishima. I'm not very good at math, but you can borrow my notes if you want. Can I see your schedule?"

He doesn't even wait for Bakugo to hand him the schedule, just grabs it off the desk and squints at it like it's an optical illusion he's trying to make sense of. "Hey we have the same lunch period! You should come sit with us!"

Bakugo snatches his schedule out of his hands with a muttered whatever and races out the door so fast he heads in the complete opposite direction of his next class. He doesn't sit with anyone at lunch. He eats alone in the library and he doesn't see Kirishima again until fifth period Chemistry when he waves him down from the back of the classroom.

The only available seat is at a lab table two rows in front of Kirishima's where he can hear every asinine word of every conversation he has with his buddies around him. He could combust right there on the spot, but he's tried. First days are inherently emotionally draining.

He jumps out of his seat as the last bell rings, ignoring the way his classmates look at him. He's practically the first one out the school doors, slipping into his sneakers and tearing into the nearest alley to change, tying his mask tight and throwing his backpack onto a roof he'll come back to later. His hands pop like fireworks and he sighs in content.

Two streets over someone screams and Bakugo, no, _Nitro_ races over to investigate.


	2. Chapter 2

His first week is pretty average. He's hyper aware of every little thing he touches and glares daggers at every classmate that dares to giggle or point when he takes out a wet wipe to wipe any and everything down. He's doing this for their _safety_ goddammit.

He learns his way to his classes. He catches up to the curriculum with ease, he makes a habit of eating in the library and avoids making friends like the plague.

That doesn't stop Kirishima from turning around every first period and beaming at him with that stupid face and asking him questions he never answers.

Bakugo hates liars, but that's what he is now. His parents ask: Make any friends at school? He answers: Yeah, tons. His parents ask: What is it you're doing at school so late? He answers: Joined some clubs for my college transcript. His parents ask: What are you doing this weekend? He answers: Going to the mall with some guys from class.

He does actually go to the mall but it's not intentional. He'd been standing on someone's fire escape looking out over a nearby park in full hero get up when he'd seen some punk snatch a purse. He jumped the railing and used his explosions to propel him in pursuit of the purse snatcher. The guy runs out of the park at top speed with Bakugo at his heels yelling curses and expletives that have mothers covering their children's ears and makes a mad dash into the crowd of the outdoor mall one block over.

The fucker must think he's lost him because he slows his pace to a casual stroll until Bakugo is grabbing the front of his shirt and lifting him off the ground while steam rolls out his nostrils in exaggerated puffs. And suddenly the little purse snatcher isn't so little. He's grown two stories tall, his head peaks out of the mall sky light and while Bakugo looks up from where he's sprawled out on the ground muttering a fuck, the guy bends down and grabs him in one hand like a deranged King Kong.

The mall transforms into pure chaos. People scream. He watches from twenty feet up as a girl trips and nearly gets trampled from the crowd. Fuck, he really fucked up.

"Hey! Fuck face! Put me down now and nobody has to get hurt!"

The guy laughs as he raises his fist above his head and lets Bakugo drop. There's a moment in midair where he almost panics trying to right himself, almost thinks he's going to die. The explosion is expertly timed though. He flies up while the guy is distracted looking for an escape.

He hides behind a pillar on the second story balcony and watches to make sure all bystanders are out of the way before aiming an explosion at the back of a knee and another at a walkway over the guy's head as he kneels. The bridge collapses as planned incapacitating the purse snatcher and Bakugo looks up to see a dozen or so people jaw dropped with their cellphone cameras facing him.

It takes a while to navigate back to the safety of his civilian clothes amidst the police sirens and nervous chatter of the hundreds of pedestrians that flood the scene to witness the damage. He somehow manages to get home unscathed and the second he opens the front door he's pulled into the tightest hug his mom has ever given.

"Katsuki! I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Yeah, mom, I'm fine. I wasn't even there." He lies again and he hates himself a little more.

* * *

Kirishima knows his friends are tired of him replaying the same video again and again and talking about how cool the mall vigilante is.

"I actually saw him-,"

"On your way to school helping some girls last week. Yeah, yeah, we've heard it a dozen times, Kiri!"

"Yeah, dude. He's not that cool. He put a lot of innocent people in real danger."

"He should have let the cops do their jobs, it's what they're here for."

"But guys," He whines, "Haven't you ever wanted to be a super hero?"

There's a snort, "Yeah, when I was, like, five."

He spends the rest of the day pouting and hardly saying a word. He stares out the window of his classes listless, dreaming of a day when he can wear a mask, a day when his skin is unbreakable.

He's dreaming up superhero names in last period when Kaminari breaks his train of thought.

"God, that new kid is so weird. Why does he do that?"

He looks up to see Bakugo meticulously wiping down his desk and chair.

"It's not even like he's wiping off other people's germs!" Ashido chimes in twirling a strand of pink hair between her fingers as she leans in to whisper. "It's the end of the day! He's leaving! Is he, like, sick or something?"

"I guess it is kind of weird." Kirishima acknowledges.

"Right!?" Kaminari buzzes excitedly.

"We shouldn't judge him though. Maybe he's just being thoughtful?" He offers.

"God, Kiri, you're no fun sometimes." The trio makes their way out to the courtyard slowly with bags slung over shoulders.

"Are you coming with us to Sero's?"

"I can't today. Sorry, guys." Kaminari stops dead in his tracks to stare him down.

"Man, what's up with you lately? You haven't hung out with us all week."

"I'm not doing so hot in Algebra." He says to his feet. "I need to go home and study so my dad doesn't freak."

Ashido puts a hand on his shoulder. "When have you ever been good at math, Kiri? I'm sure your parents will understand."

Kirishima laughs halfheartedly and scratches the back of his head. "Not this year. I'll catch up with you guys soon! I promise!"

"If you say so!" Ashido sings as they part ways.

He walks back to his empty house with his eyes on his shoes and leans heavily against the door as he closes it behind him with a sigh.

"What is wrong with me?" No one answers.

He sits at his desk, lays in his bed, and stands in the middle of the floor with blinds shut tight, doing the one thing he knows he shouldn't. He hardens his skin, and release, and harder, and harder until his skin feels raw and sensitive after long periods of being jagged and thick and when he looks in the mirror with his skin as hard as a rock he doesn't look like Kirishima anymore. He takes breaks to walk around the house dumbbell in hand, pausing to do squats here and sit-ups there and if his parents notice that he's been eating more they don't say anything.

* * *

AN: Sorry, first couple chapters are gonna be kinda short but once it picks up (and I have some more free time) expect much longer chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

Bakugo prides himself on being an observant person. It kind of comes with the territory of being a vigilante. He spends a little less time in costume these days and wanders around eyes peeled. There's a lot more activity around the mall. Cops patrol regularly, men slink in dark alleys hidden under trench coats and hoodies.

All these people waiting for him to show up because what he's doing is illegal. What he's doing is pissing people off.

It's really no wonder with his mind focused on all of this that he doesn't notice until half way through class when the guy in front of him turns around to ask him for help with a problem that his hair has dramatically changed.

He squints for a minute trying figure out when they got a new student when it dawns on him that the face and shape of the hair have stayed the same. Yes, that is in fact the same extra that says hello to him every morning without fail, now with bright red hair.

"Did you get number 5?"

"How the fuck did you not get number 5? It's easy."

He writes out the equation explaining each step and Kirishima looks up at him with a twinkle in his eyes saying, "Holy crap! That makes so much more sense now! Thank you so much!"

When he looks up from wiping his desk down at the end of class Kirishima is there waiting for him smiling that same stupid bright smile.

"So, I never see you at lunch." He has to look around to make sure that's actually directed at him.

"What of it?" He walks to his next period ignoring the way Kirishima trails behind him.

"You should come sit with us! I think you'd really like my friends!"

"Fuck off." He plops down into his second period seat without sparing Kirishima a glance as the warning bell rings.

"Oh c'mon! It'll be-,"

"Kirishima, I know I don't see you for two more periods. The tardy bell just rang. You can speak to Mr. Bakugo after class."

"Just think about it!" He waves as he exits the classroom. A few students in the back giggle and Bakugo hides his face in his backpack as he retrieves his notebook.

* * *

"Dude, please tell me you didn't really invite Bakugo to sit with us?" Kaminari asks lowering himself into the chair across from him.

"Yeah, why?" He says swallowing his bite of pb&j.

"Why? Dude, that guy is weird."

"Total school shooter vibes." Ashido chimes in.

"Oh c'mon. He can't be that bad." Sero says good natured.

"He glares and cusses at everyone."

"He obsessively cleans everything he touches before he leaves."

"He doesn't have any friends."

"I heard he was expelled from his last school for blowing up the science wing."

"Wah. No way. Guys! Stop spreading rumors! He's probably just shy… and a little OCD."

"What do you have a crush on him or something, Kiri?" Ashido bats her eyelashes at him as she leans forward.

"Wha- No! I just, I don't think we should write him off when we don't even know him!" His cheeks burn hot. "I don't understand what's so wrong with trying to be his friend."

Sero looks at him sympathetically. "Kirishima's right. I don't know how weird this guy really is but we should at least give him a chance."

* * *

The librarian doesn't even look up from his cat videos when Bakugo slams his bag down on the nearest desk. He used to glare at him but now they mutually ignore each other. He doesn't eat in the library, he doesn't talk to anyone, he reads his book for the allotted thirty minutes, cleans up after himself, and leaves with plenty of time to get to his next class. That's why his relationship with the librarian works. Neither ask anything of each other but peace and quiet.

But that changes Tuesday.

He hasn't even pulled his book out when a blur of red hair enters, head swiveling in each direction before landing on him with a, "Oh! There you are!"

He doesn't hold back the groan.

"I've been looking all over for you!"

The librarian looks up from his scarf blinking sleep from his eyes. "Kirishima, if you can't obey the rules of the library then you'll have to leave."

"Sorry, Mr. Aizawa!" he says over a shoulder. "All right! You heard the man let's go!"

"I'm not going anywhere." Kirishima's smile falters and Bakugo has to snort because _was this really an unexpected outcome?_

"But aren't you hungry?"

"No." His stomach growls. _Traitor._

Kirishima smirks and Bakugo mentally commends him on holding back a laugh.

"I don't like cafeterias. They're too fucking loud." He looks back down to his book in hopes that this will be the end of it and he'll finally leave him the fuck alone.

"Can I join you here then?" Bakugo blinks at him a few times.

"I don't own the fucking library. Do whatever you want." Kirishima takes the seat next to him and spends the next twenty minutes tilting his chair back far enough to almost fall over and memorizing every crack and pock mark in the ceiling.

He doesn't come to the library every day for lunch after that, but when he does he brings his algebra homework and sneaks snacks under the table to bribe Bakugo for help.


	4. Chapter 4

He has to throw out his first five attempts at making a mask because he can't seem to get the eye holes just right, but when he finally gets it Kirishima spends several minutes with the door locked and blinds shut tight staring at himself in the mirror. _Is it manly that I can't wear a shirt or do I look like a tool? I probably look like a tool._ He flexes a little and gradually hardens his skin. _I look like a monster._

That Saturday he's lying in bed playing some video games when his mom calls, "Kirishima honey, you got a package!" He nearly trips over himself twice sprinting to the kitchen.

"Thanks, mom!" And then two more times on his way to the bathroom. He tears into the package like a rabid dog to pull out the strongest hair gel money can buy. He spends a solid three hours working his hair to stand up in red spikes only to wash it out ten minutes after he smiles at his reflection satisfied.

* * *

There's a car accident on his way to school, and that usually wouldn't mean running into the nearest alley way to change, but one of the drivers started lifting the other car telepathically and that's definitely not safe.

He's got a shoulder strap in one hand ready to whirl around so he can dig out sweat pants, but stops, seeing red hair and sharp teeth and a familiar school uniform.

"Oh! Hey, Bakugo!" _Oh, fuck._

He keeps moving shifting his trajectory. "Can't talk. Guy. Accident. School. Now." Internally he winces at the incoherent mess fumbling out of his mouth, but he doesn't stick around long enough to see if Kirishima picked up any of that. He turns a corner and then another shoving pants over his uniform and button down into back pack, slipping the mask over his eyes with one hand while blasting off the ground with the other. He uses the other hand to right himself onto the roof and awkwardly stumbles over to the ledge overlooking the street he was just on.

But there's no levitating cars, or screams of panic. _What the hell?_ Beneath him lies the same scene he had just left, but now the angry guy sits on the ground crying into his hands while some _masked,_ shirtless, _weirdo_ hovers with a hand on his shoulder.

Bakugo grits his teeth as he turns away, grits his teeth as he swings himself to the ground and redresses, grits his teeth the whole walk to school. His jaw aches as he throws himself into his first period chair, but a scowl lingers as his mind repeats _stupid shitty haired bastard._

His blood is still boiling when Kirishima drops into his seat late for once. Still boiling when Kirishima whips his head around, droplets of water flying off his still wet hair into Bakugo's face and all over the page in front of him.

"Do you not know how to dry your hair? Fuck!" Heads are turning. His palms are sweating profusely like they're ready to _fucking fight goddamn it,_ but now is not the time or the place and just how weird would it be if he pulled out a wet wipe now and wiped the sweat from his hands?

Kirishima's face is as red as his hair that hangs dripping onto damp shoulders. "Ah, sorry Bakugo!" He's still smiling this grin that takes over his whole face and scrunches his eyes shut and laughs in a way that lets the class know there's not going to be fight today; heads slowly turn back to textbooks. "I guess I forgot!"

Bakugo glares because _fuck_ there is _no way_ someone can be _that_ stupid, but he lets it go. He tries to let go of the anger that fizzles to a hard knot of agitation that worms its way between his shoulder blades and the crease between his eyebrows and spends the rest of class trying his damnedest not to touch anything.

He wipes down the desk at a furious pace, careful to reach every divot his sweat could have dripped into.

"Damn, Bakugo. You trying to snap the desk in half?"

He doesn't say anything as he grabs two more wipes to wipe his hands clean and heads to second period. The day passes in a sweaty, sweaty blur with no relief until the final bell rings and he's beelining out of school at top speed to the nearest alley way furiously throwing off clothes and pulling on sweats. He pauses foot halfway in a pants legs at the _zzzpp_ of a seam ripping. _God_ _fucking cocksucking shit asshole fuck._ It's too small of a rip to really get his panties in a wad over but it's how the seam ripping feels like a part of himself ripping just slightly in half. His body buzzing with a need to burn off the agitation nagging at him, pinching his shoulders and turning his gut.

He can feel the way the fabric brushes each crease in his forehead as he ties it tighter than necessary and the blast he lets out to reach the roof is much stronger than intended leaving scorch marks up the sides of both brick walls.

The afternoon is quiet. He spends hours stealthily staking out alley ways and abandoned industrial districts (you know, the places you're told crime happens). By five he gives up and heads to the abandoned enclosed basketball court a few blocks from his home and spends the next hour and a half furiously swiping at air, kicking, and turning, and punching until the air has left his lungs and his muscles feel heavy. He changes into his school clothes in the bathroom because even the enclosed court feels to big and exposed and when he walks home he doesn't think of anything but the warmth of a hot meal, shower, and bed.

* * *

The temperature has been steadily dropping the whole week and when Kirishima steps outside Thursday morning it smells like snow. It's funny, he ponders, how violent crimes drop with the temperature. It's not something he should complain about, really, but he's only handled a few minor altercations since he decided to suit up and none of them have led him any closer to his idol. If anything, they've only led him closer to catching hypothermia.

He's caught on quick, bringing a towel with him to help dry his hair when it's time to let the spikes down, but every morning he can feel Bakugo scowling at the back of his damp head.

That Thursday, Kirishima brings his headphones with him to lunch and sits with Bakugo in the library. He knows if his other friends see him replay the same video of the mall incident again he'll never hear the end of it and it's the only video of the vigilante out there. He doesn't expect Bakugo to look over though.

"What the fuck are you watching?" He hisses and Kirishima's eyes widen as the phone is ripped from his hand. He looks up into Bakugo's face. There's creases between his brows as one lifts up into his hairline, mouth agape.

"I- I just thinks he's neat." Bakugo closes his mouth and hands the phone back before returning to his homework without a word.

Kirishima _knows_ he's blushing, feels the heat spread through his cheeks, but he doesn't understand why the other boy is. He attempts to reason, attempts to form questions and right as he's opening his mouth to try some words out- the bell rings. He forgets about it as the day passes.

By the end of fifth Ashido is cornering him as the class packs up their bags and Bakugo scrubs his desk.

"Kiri! Where were you at lunch?"

Kirishima scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I, uh, was in the library. Bakugo is helping me with Algebra."

"Oh! So that means you can hang out with us! We were going to check out the new arcade on the west end!"

"Oh, uh, I don't know guys, I have a lot of English homework to catch up on and my mom wants me home early to help with dinner-,"

"You said the same thing last week." Kaminari cuts in. "What's the deal dude? Do you not want to hang out with us anymore?"

 _Shit. I fucked up._

"No! Shit! Guys, I didn't mean to make you feel that way! I'll be there! I'll worry about my homework later." Something in his gut twists and he really does feel bad lying like this, but that's what superheroes with secret identities have to do, right?

The guilt eats at his gut the whole afternoon, but nothing really compares to the feeling he gets when he cuts on the TV that evening and there on the six o'clock news is the same masked vigilante he'd been fawning over at lunch pulling two small kids and a cat from a burning building, clothes singed and breathing ragged. He stares up at the ceiling for eight solid hours that night. _I should have been there. I should have been there. I should have been there._


	5. Chapter 5

Kirishima runs on fumes Friday morning. He can't even remember his own name and two blocks away from school he blinks at his surrounding surprised and gets this nagging feeling he forgot something.

Bakugo doesn't look much better off. He still glares at him around the bags under his eyes. Somehow Kirishima mutters through the fog, "Good morning, Bakugo." Lips curling up in his familiar grin.

He feels something tug at the back of his hair.

"You're going to catch a cold." _Ah, so that's it._ He really did forget to dry his hair. He reaches up and the tips of his hair have frozen solid in places, melting at his touch. He turns around to respond, but Bakugo is doubled over with his face in the crease of his elbow hacking up a lung.

"You're one to talk."

"Shut," _cough,_ "the fuck up." _Cough, cough._

By lunch Kirishima has a migraine the size of Texas. He stops by the nurse's office for some pain killers, but the thought of sitting in the cafeteria with all the noise and his friends poking fun at the bags under his eyes makes him cringe.

The quiet of the library is particularly comforting today and he's pleasantly surprised when he opens his bag to find he did pack Twizzlers the night before. He shoves those under a thigh and pulls out his Algebra homework.

Bakugo coughs at least twice a minute but he still reaches for a Twizzler when Kirishima offers so he can't be that sick.

"Why did you lie to your friends yesterday?" He whips his head in Bakugo's direction so fast something pops, but the boy still has his nose in his book.

"Huh?"

The blond looks up at him with narrowed eyes waiting.

"I, uh, started doing some volunteer work after school, and I know they'll make fun of me if they find out." _Not entirely untrue._

"I didn't help you with Algebra yesterday."

"I like sitting with you even when you're not helping me with homework." _A half-truth,_ but truthful enough that he doesn't stutter. He busies himself with pulling apart the Twizzler in his hands just to distract himself from the flush of Bakugo's cheeks.

"Whatever." Bakugo huffs and turns back to his book. He stares at Bakugo's pink cheeks. _Is that his way of saying he enjoys my company? He's not telling me to fuck off…_

"What're you doing after school?" He blurts.

"Not fucking volunteering my time if that's what you're asking."

"No! Uh, the guys and I usually hang out and play some video games! You should join us!"

"Yeah, no thanks." Bakugo shifts in his seat to lean back fully propping a foot on the table, knee bent with his book resting on his knee.

"What if it was just the two of us?" Bakugo looks over the edge of the book with an eyebrow raised. "I don't have any video games, but we could play some basketball or something?"

"Yeah?" Kirishima nods his head grinning. "And none of your idiot friends would be there?" The nodding picks up intensity. "I'll think about it."

The bell ending lunch period rings and they both start to pick up their things, Bakugo snatching a few Twizzlers to go. "Well, I'll see you in Chem! Let me know if you want to hang out after!"

He doesn't see Bakugo in Chem though and he doesn't have Bakugo's number. He waits after class for him at the school entrance, but he never shows. Kaminari and Ashido rib him the whole way to Sero's because to them Bakugo is weird and standoffish and temperamental, and while he knows they're not entirely wrong he wishes his friends would just shut up for once and give the guy a chance. He just needs a little push is all and anyone that can take the time to explain math to Kirishima can't be all that bad.

* * *

Bakugo only sorta agrees to hang out with Kirishima because his vigilante clothes are in ashes in some back alley dumpster where he'd exploded them last night too singed to salvage. He probably could use the break anyway, really. He'd refused treatment after the fire and his lungs still burn from the smoke. When he coughs, he coughs up hard strings of mucus that remind him he pushed himself too hard. He had no right to be in that burning building, but the he thinks about those kids… and the cat. Stupid, wretched thing it was giving him a hard time picking it up.

He doesn't want to think about what could have happened if he had not been out on patrol. He replays the instant when he put the kids down and they ran to their frantic parents elated and tear stained, and the look of pure relief when he handed the cat of to the old hag who had cried her eyes out the moments prior. He'd done the right thing.

He coughed so much he didn't really sleep and even though he knew he wasn't sick took his vitamin c at his dad's insistence. And maybe that's why he agrees to think about hanging out with Kirishima. He's spent the day half awake, but two words hit him hard in the chest as students stream out of fourth period Chemistry. _Bunsen burner._

He turns around right then and there on his heels, full body pooling with sweat, head pounding. _Shit, shit, shit, shit._ He moves without thinking and comes back to awareness in the middle of the library coughing and breathing heavily.

He finds an empty corner out of view. His chest feels tight and holy fuck he is _so sweaty._ He just needs to sit down for a second. He does, hard and fast with a loud thump and stares at his stupid sweaty hands.

He hardly hears Mr. Aizawa over the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

"Bakugo? Bakugo, is everything okay?" He's moving to put a hand on his shoulder, but Bakugo jolts back.

"Don't touch me." He doesn't recognize the voice as his own. The person speaking sounds broken and scared. "Don't touch me. Everything is not okay! I could hurt you!" There's something wet on his cheeks and he's trembling and he knows his stupid, idiot, sweaty body is going to take this all as a threat and fucking explode and how? How can a superhero have so little control over his own power?

"Bakugo, look at me." He looks into Mr. Aizawa's eyes and something flashes. "It's going to be okay. You can tell me what's wrong."

He skips fifth period. His body miraculously stops sweating and he knows its Mr. Aizawa's doing and maybe that's why he spends the next two hours in his office with the door shut tight explaining exactly how he got expelled from his last school.

He gets home that afternoon and immediately heads to bed, and when he wakes up Saturday it's one in the afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend moves too slowly for Bakugo. His parents clearly suspicious that he's home more than usual try to give him a wide berth and respect his boundaries. Sunday night he can't hold in the hacking cough that lasts several minutes ending with Katsuki in tears and his mother rushing to his side and pressing the back of a hand to his forehead.

"Katsuki, dear, are you okay?" He flinches back, brushing the hand away furiously.

"I'm fine. 'S just a chest cold." Mitsuki puffs her chest out and ruffles his hair with a little too much force.

"Listen here you little shit! If you get pneumonia because you're not taking care of yourself, I am not taking you to the hospital!" Katsuki brushes her hand off again, standing and walking back to his room with hands in his pockets.

"I said 'm fine."

He knows the muffled voices on the other side of his door are the sounds of his parent's concern, but he shoves a pillow over his head and stares out the window to a tree branch swaying in the breeze until sleep over takes him.

Monday morning is sleepy and quiet. Mist hangs in the air and clings to Bakugo's eyelashes. He shivers. It's definitely time to break out the sweaters. He feels antsy. Winter means less sweat which is great. He becomes less of a ticking time bomb, but it also means he's a bit slow to start. Maybe it's for the best he's out of commission for the time being. His explosions aren't as close at hand.

He plops down into his first period seat as the bell rings leaving Kirishima no time to question him let alone greet him. Bakugo rests his chin in his hand and tries not to stare as Kirishima leans back, arms out stretched to fake a yawn and look back at Bakugo. It's kind of cute.

His brain creeks to a halt. _The fuck. No, no, no, no, no. You do not have time for that. Get it the fuck together, Katsuki. He doesn't even like you like that._ He's so lost he forgets to pay attention to the time and the bell ringing sends a jolt through his body.

He's hurriedly wiping down his desk when Kirishima starts in on him.

"Hey man, what happened to you Friday?"

"Sick. Had to go home." He slings his bag over his hunched shoulders, trying to hide the way blood rushes to his cheeks. _Goddammit. Fuck. This is bullshit._

"Oh man, I'm glad you're feeling better!" Kirishima is doing an excellent job keeping up with him through the crowded hall. "What're you doing after school today?"

"Shopping." He grunts.

"Ooh! Can I come with? Maybe I can help!"

"No." He throws his bag to the ground as he settles into his second period desk.

Kirishima opens his mouth to say more but their teacher interrupts him.

"Mr. Kirishima, you can flirt with Mr. Bakugo later. This better not become a regular thing."

They both blush. Bakugo folds his arms on his desk and buries his face in them as Kirishima laughs and scratches the back of his neck.

"Sorry ma'am!" Bakugo's blood boils as the class breaks out in giggles.

The day continues to inch on at an agonizing pace after that. Bakugo stands outside the doors to the library as lunch starts debating whether or not to go in. He doesn't feel like facing Kirishima if he decides to join him today. He takes a deep breath and heads in regardless.

Mr. Aizawa looks up from his computer as the door clicks open and opens a drawer to his right.

"Bakugo, I have something for you." Bakugo approaches the desk with eyebrows raised. "Here."

In his hand sit a pair of black leather gloves. Katsuki picks them up careful not to touch Mr. Aizawa's hands and turns them over to inspect them before slipping one onto his left hand. It fits like, well…

Bakugo looks at him with an eyebrow quirked.

"I thought they might help ease some of your... anxiety around…" Mr. Aizawa's eyes shift around to make sure no one is listening, but Bakugo gets it and slips the other glove on flexing his fingers.

"Thanks." Mr. Aizawa turns back to his computer as Bakugo heads to his table in the back corner.

* * *

"What's going on with you and Bakugo?" Mina asks before he can even set his lunch tray down.

"Wha- what do you mean?"

"I saw you talking to him before second." Kirishima's a little taken aback.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"He didn't really look like he wanted to talk to you." He knows Bakugo was in a bit of a mood this morning, but it's really rubbing him wrong that Mina is digging into his business like this.

He sighs. "What's your point, Mina?"

"Honey, I just don't want to see you get hurt. He clearly has an attitude problem and you're too nice to take a hint!"

He huffs. "You don't know what you're talking about. He was just in a bad mood this morning."

" _Bad mood?_ He's always in a 'bad mood'!"

"How would know? You never even tried to talk to him!" Mina huffs and crosses her arms effectively ending the conversation. The tension between them lasts all through lunch as Kaminari tries to lighten the mood. Mina's words repeat in his mind all through fourth and fifth period. " _He didn't really look like he wanted to talk to you." "He clearly has an attitude problem and you're too nice to take hint!" Maybe Mina's right._

He doesn't look at Bakugo or Ashido all through sixth period pretending to focus on the board. Kaminari nudges him as the bell rings and he turns to say something, but Kaminari is pointing forward drawing his attention ahead where Bakugo stands clearing his throat into a closed fist. He looks up, eyes imploring.

"I can't hang out today."

"Okay?" Bakugo looks away towards the door.

"Would tomorrow work?" Kirishima can't hold back the upward tug of his lips.

"Yeah, tomorrow would be fine."

"Okay."

"Okay." And just like that Bakugo walks towards the door without a second glance.

Mina and Denki are still scraping their jaws off their desks as he puts his books away.

"Dude." Kaminari shakes his head blinking. "Dude. Are you and Bakugo, like, friends?"

Kirishima hums. "Looks like it."

Ashido looks down at her shoes kicking at a scuff mark on the tile floor. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Hmm? What was that?" Mina rolls her eyes.

"Ugh! I said I'm sorry! I was wrong!" Kirishima smirks.

"Mina was wrong? What am I missing?" Sero asks as he joins them walking out the school building.

"You're not going to believe this, but guess who asked Eijiro out."

"What?" Sero sputters. "Bakugo? No way!" Kaminari practically cackles.

"He didn't ask me out. We're just hanging out." He elbows Denki in the ribs.

"Wow dude! I'm glad Mina was wrong!"

"Hey!"

"What?"

They keep going like that the whole way to Sero's all four squished up under one umbrella. Kirishima smiles the whole afternoon through dinner and even as he slides into bed that evening feeling like he just took a giant step forward.

* * *

The walk to the mall is brutal in the pouring rain. He's a dripping mess by the time he gets there, but the fact that he feels naked without a costume to change into should potential danger arise keeps his feet moving forward even as his lungs ache.

He grabs a few long sleeve black turtlenecks and a few pairs of black sweatpants not taking any chances if his clothes take damage again. He's about to check out when he passes the camping section with its thermal layers and grabs some thermal leggings for under his sweats.

The employees of the shoe store shoot him disgusted looks as he peels off wet socks to slip on a pair of fresh socks and steel toed boots. He buys those too. He starts for the mall exit when something in the sporting goods store catches his eye. He ducks in quickly, turning the item over carefully examining. He checks his wallet. Just enough.

Mitsuki looks like she's about to start in on him when he arrives home shivering, but there's a trace of a smile on his face so she drops it.

"You better not catch pneumonia." She grumbles. _I worry about you._

"Hag." _I love you._

"Ungrateful brat." _I love you too._

Speaking Bakugo might as well be a second language, but Masaru shakes his head with a smile understanding completely. Katsuki and his mom have a glaring competition over dinner when Katsuki sneezes, but neither say a word.

That night he digs his purchases out of the bags he hastily shoved under his bed and tries them on shoving the extras in the back of his closet. He smirks at his reflection and ties on his new mash. He looks… intimidating. Who knew he'd look so good in a fitted black turtleneck.

He carefully takes off each piece of clothing, folding them and slipping them into his bag noticeably bulkier and heavier with the addition of the steel toed boots. Bakugo sleeps easy that night.

* * *

There's something off about Bakugo. He can't quite put his finger on what. He leans back in his seat with a yawn more than once to sneak a peek at the other boy scribbling down notes with one hand and resting his chin on the other. _He looks good with gloves._ He thinks absently. _Like some manly rebel biker._ Images of Bakugo in a red jacket straddling a motorcycle flit through his mind. He leans back again locking eyes with Bakugo.

He doesn't realize he's been staring until their teacher snaps his attention back with a sharp, "Kirishima, what was the answer to number ten?"

He face feels hot as the legs of his chair hit the tile with a clack.

"Uh, I, uh, I don't know."

"Then maybe you should be paying more attention in class."

Class moves on but the warmth in his face doesn't fade even as he stares resolutely at the board ahead.

By lunch he's looking around the library confused. _Where could Bakugo be?_ He sits at their regular table for five minutes before getting up with a huff and pacing back to the cafeteria with his hands in his pockets.

He's walking up to the gangs usual table open mouth ready to tell Kaminari off when he notices there's an extra head. An extra _blond_ head. He's sitting a full seat away from the rest of the group, but even from where Kirishima is standing just out of ear shot he makes out a _fuck you_ on Bakugo's lips. He plops down in the seat between Kaminari and Bakugo bridging the gap.

"Since when do you eat lunch in the cafeteria?"

"Since I was fucking hungry and the shitty librarian kicked me out for trying to sneak food in." He won't look Kirishima in the eyes. Determined to keep his head down in his book and hurl insults whenever the group talks about him like he isn't there.

Kaminari leans in to whisper in his ear, "Yo, why is Bakugo sitting with us?"

He offers a shrug digging into his lunch.

They collectively notice it after lunch and brush it off as a fluke, but after sixth as their packing up their bags and Bakugo is sitting there waiting with a head propped up by a gloved hand Mina leans in whispering to Kirishima and Kaminari, "He didn't wipe down his desk. Why isn't he wiping down his desk?"

All eyes turn to him. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"

Kaminari looks over in Bakugo's direction receiving a glare in return. They drop it putting away the last of notebooks and pencils.

Kirishima starts edging around the desk when Mina pulls him into a hug fake sobbing.

"You were a great friend, Eijiro! It was nice knowing you!" He watches Bakugo stand rolling his eyes and tries to gently push Mina off.

"Mina, I'm not dying. I'll see you tomorrow."

They exit the classroom and when Kirishima turns back around Ashido and Kaminari are dramatically clutching their hearts and wailing.

"Farewell sweet Kirishima! I knew thee well!"

"Idiots." Bakugo mutters and Kirishima can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, those are my idiots." He smiles fondly.

They're already a block from the school when he turns to Bakugo suddenly.

"So, what did you want to do? We could play basketball over at the gym or go to the mall or whatever. I'm game for anything."

Bakugo pulls his scarf tighter. His cheeks are already pink from the cold winter air. "I guess the park could be nice."

"Yeah! Let's do it!" Kirishima grins.

The walk over to the park is quiet, but amicable. It's a small park. Mostly open field for dogs to run and a swing set for four. The rest is woods with winding trails overlooking the river bank. The city is mostly occupied with river and hiking trails that run over and through it from suburban areas at the edge of the city to the heart of downtown with its wide canals and historic industrial zones.

They take a seat on the swings.

"So," Kirishima starts, drawing the syllables out slowly, "have you always lived in the city?"

Bakugo looks out over the grass where a man is playing fetch with his dog. Shaggy golden fur bouncing and swaying with every step. There's a pregnant pause as he watches Bakugo watching the dog. He's thinking of other things to say to fill the silence when Bakugo finally, quietly, answers.

"We used to live in the 'burbs. Mom's job is in the city anyways. We came here a lot when I was a kid."

"Oh. Well I guess that's got to make it easier to adjust if you already know you're way around." They both watch as the man and dog pick up the ball one last time and exit the park. "Why'd you move?"

Bakugo stares at his feet in silence, then stands abruptly.

"It's cold. We should keep walking." He's kicking at the dirt by his feet. _Shit. I shouldn't have asked._

"Yeah. I'm starting to lose feeling in my toes." They shuffle into the cold shadow trees. Bakugo pulls his scarf tighter as the trees dense and sunlight becomes sparse. They don't talk as they wind their way over rocks and roots downhill. Eventually, they reach an overlook with a small wooden bench just off the path high above the river and twisting vine and vegetation leading down to it. Bakugo sits waiting for him to close the last couple meters and stares out over the river.

"Shit. It's going to get dark soon." Bakugo says as he looks down at his phone.

They watch as the sun sets over the river bank and the turbulent waters shine golden with the hour.

"Should we head back?"

"Nah," Bakugo stands and turns back to the trail, hair glowing gold. "These trails don't go on forever. It'll take longer to hike back uphill. Let's keep going and we'll get a ride back."

The trail curves around rock face and sure enough, within minutes they're at another trail head. There's a short hike uphill before they reach concrete and they're walking straight into the skyscrapers and office buildings of downtown.

"You seemed really into that." Kirishima notes conversationally.

"Mhmm," Bakugo hums, "My dad us to take us hiking on the weekends before his job got too demanding." He doesn't continue and to Kirishima it feels odd like he had realized he was sharing too much and stopped completely.

"I've lived here my whole life and I don't think I've ever been down there. It's a great shortcut to downtown if I ever need to come back down here." Kirishima starts talking just to fill the silence. When he gets back home that evening he doesn't remember 90% of what he had said up until Bakugo stopped in the middle of the sidewalk suddenly, his eyes sliding forward to see what's got him wide eyed like he's watching a car crash he can't look away from.

Across the street a few meters ahead, three guys of varying height and body type walk into a broadcasting station, guns drawn. He turns back to Bakugo and their eyes lock.

"We need to get help. I'll go this way," Bakugo says pointing up the street, "you go that." And points in the direction they came from. Kirishima nods and they both take off at a sprint. They don't call anyone. They both stumble into an alley way. They both hastily throw their bags to the ground.


End file.
